A Shoulder to Cry On
by Megywne
Summary: Logan, Jean, Scott and Emma, and how they're all intertwined. All these stories, with the exception of Ch. 5, 7 & 9 were originally written as oneshots. I hope I've pieced them together well enough. Please read & review.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

_Author's Note_: This was intended as a one-shot deal, but there could be room for expansion.

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Shoulder to Cry On**

The door slammed behind Jean as she stormed out of the bedroom. Had she done that? Or had he? It didn't matter. She and Scott had been fighting so much lately that she barely gave it a second thought.

She tried to walk calmly down the stairs, but anyone who saw her would have called it stalking. She stalked outside, and just kept walking, deeper into the woods. Anyone observant would know that her midnight strolls were no longer an uncommon occurrence.

She came to her favorite clearing and laid down, ignoring the fact that the grass was still slightly damp from the afternoon's rain. The sky was surprisingly clear as she gazed up at the stars. Enjoying the relative peace of nature, and the fact that she had less need to shield her mind from stray thoughts this far away from others, she tried to clear her head.

Jean couldn't even remember what she and Scott had been fighting about. It was never anything significant, but it seemed like they were always fighting. It hadn't always been like this, she thought, trying to remember when their relationship had been happy. Before they got married? No. It got worse after they were married, but it started before that. Around the time _he_ showed up.

Her thoughts were suddenly broken by a short, unmistakable figure hovering over her, staring down at her, as though thinking of him had made him appear. She wasn't surprised that she hadn't heard him coming, she almost never did. But she was so wrapped up in thought that she hadn't even sensed his presence.

"Evenin' Red." Wolverine said.  
She blinked up at him blankly.  
"Everything alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, as she sat up and turned away, not wanting him to see the lie plain on her face.  
"You know I don't believe you, Jeanie," he said, squatting down next to her.  
She smiled slightly, turning to face him.  
"Oh yeah? And what do you know?" she said, trying to lighten the mood, playfully knocking him over.

They both laughed.  
He regained his composure, sitting up next to her, but not looking directly at her.  
"I know you come out here when you've been fighting with Scott, and I know that—" he sniffed the air for emphasis, "—you smell upset," he said.

She sighed.  
"Never could get anything past you, old friend," she said.  
For a split second, she thought she saw him wince at that last word, but then it was gone. Logan never was big on expressing his feelings.

"Do you wanna be alone?" he asked, making to get up.  
"No, it's ok," she stopped him with a hand on his arm.  
"If you don't want to talk about it, I understand, but you know I'm here for you," he said.  
"I know, and thank you," she said.  
"Yup," he said as he pulled a crinkled cigar out of his pocket, and lit it unceremoniously.

They sat there for a few minutes, in relative silence, save the chirp of crickets and the occasional crackle of burning paper as he puffed on his cigar.

"We had another fight," she said.  
"What about?"  
"I don't remember. Does it even matter?"  
"Nope."

More silence.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Jean sighed. "We fight, all the time."  
"You're gonna go back in there, and work things out. You always do," he said with one final puff, as he tamped the cigar out on the wet grass.  
"I guess we do," she said, giving him a forced half-smile. "You're right. Thank you, Logan," she said as she stood. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead.

She pulled away slowly, and the look on her face let him know exactly what she was considering.  
"Yer gonna get yerself in trouble, you keep lookin' at me like that, darlin,'" he teased, only half-joking.

"I…" she started to say, her face unchanging.  
"I have too much respect for you, Jeanie. Scott too, even if he is a whiny little boy scout," he said with a chuckle. "You're married now."  
He stood, putting one hand on each of her shoulders, and kissed her on the forehead in return. It stretched the limits of his self-restraint not to miss her forehead.

"It's late, we should both get some sleep."  
"But—" she stammered, almost helplessly.  
"No. I can't. We can't, and you know it," he said, a little more harshly than he'd probably intended. "Goodnight, Jeanie."

He walked back toward the mansion, without a sound, leaving her to stare at his dwindling silhouette.

She sat down, hard, and bade the welling tears to go away.  
"Good night, Logan," she said to the emptiness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

_Author's Note_: Please Read & Review

* * *

**Chapter 2: Failed Revenge**

_One week later..._

Jean ran through the mansion, her eyes red and tear-streaked.

She had been hoping she wouldn't find what she did, but as she'd drawn closer to Scott's room, she became more and more certain what lay within.  
And yet, she couldn't help but open the door anyway. She had to be sure.

One look, and she fled from the room. Her frantic footsteps were the only sound as she ran across the mansion. Finally, she stopped.

She paused, before knocking on the door. Was this really a good idea? She'd been avoiding him all week.  
Staring at the big wooden door, knowing he was sound asleep, and hesitant to wake him.  
She drew a deep breath, and knocked. The sound echoed through the nearly empty hallway.

"Uhnnnn. It's 2am! This had better be important!" was the response.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door swung open. The irritation on Logan's face was plain as day, fading quickly into concern once he saw her.

"Jean! What's wrong?"

"It's… it's Scott, he was… he—"

Her words became unintelligible sobs, as she buried her head against his bare chest.  
"Whoa, slow down there, he what? With who?"

She moved slowly into the room, no need for everyone to hear.  
"Emma! They were… he was…"

Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed against his chest once more.

He wrapped his arms around her, stroking her hair softly.  
She was only mildly surprised at how easily this calmed her.

She felt some of her tension melt away in his warm embrace, and her breathing began to slow.

"How could she? How could _he?!_" she sobbed, more quietly.

"I really don't know," he said, obviously struggling for words.

"…I… I'm sorry, I didn't know who else to go to."

"It's ok. You know I'm always here for you, Jean," he said soothingly.

"I know… I know." She drew her head away from him to look him in the eye. "I've always known."

He blinked. Suddenly, shock and confusion painted his face, as he realized what she had just said.  
"I… well—"

It took a lot to make a man like Wolverine blush. But if there was one person who could do it…  
He tried to hide his reddening face by turning away, but she lifted his chin to meet his gaze again, the day's worth of scruff scratching her fingers.

Her red, swollen eyes looked deep into his.

She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, and smiled, noting that it was even more disheveled than usual from a few hours of sleep.

His hands were surprisingly gentle on her hair.

She leaned in, slowly.  
He started to pull away, his expression looking somewhat pained.

"Jean, wait, I can't."  
"What?"  
"I don't think that's a good idea right now."  
"You don't want… but I thought…" she stared up at him, her green eyes full of hurt.

He sighed heavily, a faint hint of beer, cigar smoke, and sleep on his breath.  
"I do. More than anything. Believe me. But not like this. I just can't, like this."

"This is what I want," she assured him.  
She grabbed his hair and drew his head closer to hers, trying once again to kiss him.  
He put his hand to her lips and stopped her from going any further, gently but firmly.

"I can't, Jeanie," he said, looking away, but not before she caught the anguish in his eyes. "I'm here for you darlin', you know that. But I don't just want to be your revenge against Scott."

She collapsed against his chest again, this time unsure which was the cause of the tears. She'd been rejected by both the men who loved her one right after the other. Yet, Logan still wrapped his arms around her for comfort, and she just couldn't bring herself to leave.

She knew how hard it must have been for him to stop her, and she hated to admit that he was right.

And so they stood there for what seemed like hours, not speaking, barely moving, until Jean had finally cried herself to sleep. She woke the next morning to find he'd put her in his bed, and he was fast asleep on the floor below.

When she finally snuck quietly back to her room—their room—there was no sign of Scott.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

_Author's Note_: I couldn't decide which perspective I liked better, so I give you both. I think it's interesting to look at the differences, anyway. Please Read & Review.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Just One Kiss**

_Another week later..._

He always looked at her like she was the only other person in the world… like she was making a grand entrance at a ball.She walked down the stairs, in an oversized sweatshirt and an old pair of jeans. It didn't matter. He still looked at her the same way. He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed against his broad chest, head cocked slightly. As though he had nothing better to do than watch her walk down the stairs.  
"Logan," she said, matter-of-factly.  
He raised an eyebrow at her in response.  
"Why do you always have to look at me like that?" she asked.  
"I don't know what you mean, darlin.' I don't know any other way to look at ya."  
"Keep lookin' at a girl like that, you're bound to drive her crazy," she said, walking over to him.  
"That's kinda the point," he said, the faintest hint of a smile touching his lips.  
"You look at me like… like you wish I was yours."  
"But you're not, and I know that, Red."  
"Scott hasn't looked at me like that in… well, a very long time," she said, listlessly. "Even before he ran off…" she trailed off, looking at the floor to hide the pain on her face when she thought of it.  
She looked back up at him, waiting for him to respond.  
Nothing.  
"You think there's something there… that we could really have something," she prodded.  
Confusion flashed across his face, followed by… was that anger?  
"Jean," he said harshly. It wasn't often he called her just Jean, it was always 'darlin' or 'red' or 'Jeanie.' "Why are you teasin' me like this? You know it ain't fair." He turned as he started to walk away from her.  
"Logan," she caught him by the shoulder. He looked at her, somewhere between glaring and brooding. She flinched when she saw how upset he was. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to upset you…"  
He stared at her, barely even blinking.  
"I just… I had to know," she offered, meekly.  
"Know what?" he said.  
"If you might be right," she said, reaching up hesitantly to stroke his cheek.  
His face softened instantly. Well, as much as his face could ever soften.  
"What do you mean?" he said, somewhat unsteadily.  
"If you're right… about this, us. Is there actually something there? Have I been missing it all along? Or is it all just a silly fantasy in your head?"  
His breath caught, frozen in place, he just looked at her, waiting for her to move first.  
Finally, he cleared his throat.  
"And just how do you plan to do that, darlin'?"  
She ran one hand playfully through his hair, and brought her face close to his, so their noses were almost touching, both barely breathing.  
"How do you think?" she almost whispered.  
"Are you sure? Yer sure this isn't just because—"  
"Yes," she said, definitively.  
"Then Nothin's stoppin' ya," he said as casually as he could manage, knowing that everything he'd hoped for, everything he'd ever dreamed of, could very well hinge on the next few seconds.  
She tilted her head slightly, and closed her eyes. He still didn't move, as she pressed her lips to his, gently at first.  
Slowly, he began to kiss back. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he folded his around her waist.  
Suddenly, he spun them both around, pinning her to the doorframe. He kissed her with a fiery passion, more passion than she'd ever felt in any ten of Scott's kisses combined, and she kissed back just as fervently.  
A little voice in the back of her head nagged that this was wrong, and she should stop, but she didn't even notice. Her head was swimming, her heart soaring, her body reeling.  
It was him who broke the kiss first, pulling away just enough so he could look at her face.  
If he hadn't been holding her up against the doorframe, she was certain her knees would've buckled.  
He looked deep into her green eyes, down to her soul, and he could see that he had won.  
"That proof enough for ya, darlin'?" he asked, playfully.  
"That's what I was afraid of..." she said, breathily. "I was afraid if I kissed you once, I… wouldn't want to stop."  
He couldn't help but smile  
He leaned in to kiss her this time, lifting her up slightly as he did.  
She wrapped her legs around him, almost instinctively. He slid his hands underneath her to support the weight more evenly, and then slowly pulled her away from the doorway.  
She grudgingly broke the kiss, and leaned her head on his shoulder, contentedly. She didn't want to distract him too much as he carried her up the stairs. Though, she would have guessed there was very little that could have distracted him from the task at hand.

Logan woke the next morning with a start.  
Had that really happened? Or was it just a cruel dream to taunt him?  
"What's wrong?" Jean asked.  
He breathed a sigh of relief, and looked over at her, smiling warmly.  
"Nothin,' darlin.' Nothin' at all." He leaned over and kissed her as though he never wanted to stop.

* * *

She always looked elegant, and radiant. It didn't matter what she was wearing. He watched her sweep down the stairs, elegant as ever. He barely even noticed she was only in a baggy sweatshirt and ratty jeans.He leaned against the doorway, hoping that she wouldn't read his thoughts. Then again, it would be her own fault. She should know better.  
"Logan," she said, matter-of-factly.  
He raised an eyebrow at her in response.  
"Why do you always have to look at me like that?" she asked.  
"I don't know what you mean, darlin.' I don't know any other way to look at ya," he said, trying not to smile.  
"Keep lookin' at a girl like that, you're bound to drive her crazy," she said, walking towards him.  
"That's kinda the point," he said, as finding it more difficult to hide his smile.  
"You look at me like… like you wish I was yours," she said.  
Whatever semblance of a smile he'd had, faded, instantly.  
"But you're not, and I know that, Red."  
"Scott hasn't looked at me like that in… well, a very long time," she said, listlessly. "Even before he ran off…" she trailed off, looking at the floor.  
He stared at her, blankly. A little confused, but curious to see where she was going with this.  
"You think there's something there… that we could really have something," she prodded, looking back up at him.  
He quickly decided he didn't like where she was going with this, and was sure the look on his face made that very clear.  
"Jean," he said, trying hard not to get angry with her. "Why are you teasin' me like this? You know it ain't fair." He turned, trying to walk away from her.  
"Logan," she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He saw her flinched at the look on his face, and didn't care. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to upset you…"  
Like hell she wasn't.  
"I just… I had to know," she offered, meekly.  
"Know what?" he said, his face unchanging.  
"If you might be right," she said. He felt her hand run down his cheek. He suddenly understood… but why? He was so confused.  
"What do you mean?" he said, trying not to sound shaky.  
"If you're right… about this, us. Is there actually something there? Have I been missing it all along? Or is it all just a silly fantasy in your head?"  
He felt his breath catch in his throat. He couldn't move.  
Finally, he cleared his throat.  
"And just how do you plan to do that, darlin'?"  
She ran her hand through his hair, and he silently cursed how disheveled it must have been. She leaned her face close to him. This close, her scent was intoxicating… she smelled curious, and wanting… and just Jean.  
"How do you think?" she almost whispered.  
He shivered slightly at her words, and the implications behind them.  
"Are you sure? Yer sure this isn't just because—"  
"Yes," she said, definitively.  
"Then nothin's stoppin' ya," he said. He didn't move a muscle, afraid that if he did he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her.  
He felt her lips press to his, gently, and he closed his eyes, savoring a moment he'd waited for as long as he could remember.  
Still holding back a bit, not wanting to scare her, he gradually kissed her back. He felt her arms wrap around his neck.  
As he wrapped his arms around her slim, perfect, waist, he couldn't hold back anymore. He spun her around, pinning her to the doorframe, and kissed her with everything he had. His heart was racing, his head spinning. She smelled… like she'd been reading his thoughts. Or didn't need to.  
He grudgingly pulled away, and gazed into her eyes.  
From the look on her face, he'd won.  
"That proof enough for ya, darlin'?" he asked, playfully.  
"That's what I was afraid of..." she said, breathily. "I was afraid if I kissed you once, I… wouldn't want to stop."  
He grinned at her.  
He leaned in, kissing her again, lifting her a little.  
She wrapped her legs around him, and it was all he could do not to act out his thoughts right there.  
He slid his hands underneath her to support the weight more evenly, and then slowly pulled her away from the doorway.  
When he reached the stairs, she pulled away, leaning her head on his shoulder, neither one of them saying a word. 

Jean was jolted awake the next morning.  
Had that really happened? Had she really done what she thought she had?  
She realized what had woken her, and it was all the answer she needed.  
Logan was sitting straight up in bed next to her.  
"What's wrong?" Jean asked.  
He sighed contentedly.  
"Nothin,' darlin.' Nothin' at all." He leaned over and kissed her, and her head swam as she kissed him back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Lost and Found**

_Three days later..._

She was walking down the main hall, pacing really, just before Scott came in. She'd known all day that he was on his way back, and she was very anxious.  
The door finally opened, and he stepped through.  
"Hey," he said, frozen at the sight of her.  
"Hey," she said, just as awkwardly.  
A long silence passed, neither one of them wanting to be the first to speak.  
"I… I missed you," he said.  
"Is that why you came back?" she said, almost bitingly.  
"Yes. I… I'm sorry," he said, and without trying to read his thoughts, the look on his face said he meant it. "I'm so sorry, Jean."  
"You walk back in here, and expect everything to be ok again?" she asked, fighting back tears.  
"Jean, I'm truly sorry. I had to come back. I missed you so much, and I couldn't stand to think how you must have felt. I understand if you don't want to try and work through this, but I really hope you can forgive me," he said, his own unshed tears making his voice quaver.  
She sighed.  
"I missed you too," she said, straining to keep the hesitation out of her voice.  
She'd had a great deal of time to consider what had happened over the past few weeks. She was afraid that if he came back to her, she'd forgive him, admitting it wasn't entirely his fault. Likewise, he should forgive her for--  
Scott went to put his arms around her. She pulled back at first, but then sank into his familiar embrace, sobbing softly against his shoulder.  
He tilted her chin up and leaned in to kiss her.  
As he kissed her, she saw Logan come into the room, out of the corner of her eye.  
She was surprised, and rather confused, that she felt guilty for kissing Scott. For some reason, she felt almost like she was doing something wrong.  
She could feel his eyes on them as they kissed.  
And she could feel the warmth in Scott's kiss, warm and tender, as though he took such a simple thing as a kiss from her for granted.  
Not at all like Logan. His kiss was always full of heat and desire, tinged almost with desperation.  
But why should she feel guilty?  
Sure, they had shared a few stolen nights of passion while Scott was away.  
But that was just a moment of weakness.  
Or two.  
Nobody's perfect.  
But she was Scott's, and he had to know that. She didn't owe him anything.  
By the time she opened her eyes again, Logan was gone. He'd been coming to say goodbye, and probably hadn't wanted to interrupt. "Are you alright?" Scott asked.  
It wasn't until then that she realized she was frowning.  
"I'm fine. I just remembered... " she trailed off.  
She let go, and hurried down the hall.  
"Wait, where are you going?" she heard Scott say as she ran, but she did not answer.  
The mansion was generally quiet in the early afternoon, but that didn't stop people from poking their heads out of rooms as she dashed by.  
But it was too late.  
By the time she got to the garage, Logan's jeep was already gone.  
She stopped herself halfway to her own car.  
Why would she feel compelled to chase after him?  
She loved Scott.  
Didn't she?  
She just stood there, staring blankly at her car, as the internal debate raged in her head.  
She stood there for a while, and Scott eventually caught up.  
He ran up to her, still catching his breath.  
He stood there for a long moment, just looking at her.  
Finally, he broke the silence.  
"He's gone," he said.  
"I know. Wait. You knew…?"  
"Of course I knew. I almost expected it."  
"Oh Scott, I'm sorry," she said, as she threw her arms around him and sobbed.  
"I know," he said, as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her red hair.  
"Is… is he coming back?" he asked, after a long pause.  
"I don't know. You never know with Wolverine."  
"Well, if he does—"  
"You'll leave him alone."  
Scott sighed.  
"Ok. But, will you?" he said, accusingly.  
"As long as you stay away from Emma," she said, bitterly.  
"Then I suppose we're even."  
He leaned down and kissed her gently, but it seemed forced.  
In time, they would work things out.  
Wouldn't they?  
They had to, she told herself.

Too much of a man to cry, Logan took out his frustration on the nearest dumpster.  
By the time he was done, there wasn't much left of it.  
Why?  
She had been his. For a few short days, she had been his.  
He was afraid it had been too good to be true, and he hated that he had been right.  
As he sat down hard on the pavement, he wondered whether it was more painful never to have the thing you love most, or to have it for a brief moment, only to have it snatched away again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

* * *

**Chapter 5: A Painful Realization**

_Two weeks later..._

Jean felt that things were strained between her and Scott. At least, more so than usual.  
They didn't really talk about what they had done during their time apart.  
They had said all they'd needed to.  
Or, at least, so she'd thought.  
She couldn't help but feel like he was keeping her out, in some way.  
And, every so often, she thought she noticed something, or someone, rather, heavily on his mind. It was Emma, of course. But she was afraid to ask… especially since she found herself thinking about Logan every so often.  
Where had he gone? Was he alright?  
She couldn't blame him for storming off after she ran back to Scott. But she couldn't dwell too long on it, either. She had to spend her energy working on things with Scott.  
She'd taken to blowing off steam in the danger room whenever they had a fight. They still fought about as often as they had before he'd left. But with Logan gone, she found more constructive ways to vent her frustration.  
She was amidst a pretty tough battle with a couple of anonymous, computerized foes, when the door opened. She had been so caught up in blowing off steam, that she hadn't sensed anyone coming.  
She saw Scott. And he wasn't alone.  
Emma.  
They stood about a foot apart, but they could have been locked in a warm embrace for the look of satisfaction on her face.  
Jean barely had time to wonder why the woman had returned, let alone find out.  
At that moment something snapped. Whether it was in Jean, or the program, she wasn't sure. But the intrusion, especially by _her_, had thrown her so off guard that she missed a beat, and was slammed hard into the wall.  
Something shorted, and the program ended before Scott even had the chance to shut it down manually.

Scott ran over to Jean, and cradled her limp body in his arms."I'm sorry, Jean. I'm so sorry," he said, tears streaming from behind his visor.  
"Scott, I—" Emma called from across the room.  
"Get out," he said, quietly, without turning to look at her.  
"But, I was just—" she stuttered.  
"Get _out!_" he said much more forcefully, as he turned to look at her, his face stone cold.  
Emma turned and walked away, the quintessential ice queen with her head held high, haughty and indignant. She didn't look back.  
Scott turned back to Jean, holding her tight.  
"I'm so sorry. She said she wanted to set things right, and I believed her. I _believed _her. It's all my fault," he said, kissing the top of her hair.

Emma had too much pride to run, let alone let anyone see her cry. As soon as she stepped foot outside the mansion, though, she couldn't hold back the tears any longer.  
She was invincible, unrivaled.  
Except when it came to him.  
But she vowed to change that.  
At any cost.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Between Dream and Reality**

_Three weeks later_

"Logan? Logan, are you alright?" Jean said, leaning over him.  
He grunted in response.  
"What happened?"  
"You got slammed pretty hard over there... Are you sure you're alright?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine."  
He saw concern and then relief flash across her face, and she looked away, quickly, almost sheepishly. He never liked looking weak, especially in front of her.  
"Jean?"  
"I should... we should get back."  
She rose as though to leave.  
"Wait..." he stopped her with a hand on her arm. "you... well, it's good to know you still care," he said with a half-smile.  
"Of course I still care, Logan. I never stopped."  
He brought his hand up to softly stroke her cheek.  
"Logan, no, I ca—"  
As he looked into her green eyes, he could see that she would never finish that sentence.  
He leaned over and kissed her, as gently as he could manage.  
Surprised, and hesitant at first, she couldn't help but kiss him back.  
And it was everything he remembered.  
Everything he could have hoped for...

He woke with a start.  
He'd fallen asleep in the damned chair again.  
He'd had that damned dream again. Each time a little different, and each time a little more painful to wake from.  
She was the first thing he saw.  
One look at the machines keeping her stable told him all he needed to know.  
She was unconscious, breathing rhythmically.  
Still no change.  
She'd been that way ever since before he'd come back a week and a half ago. Of course, Scott was hovering over her, holding her hand. Worry creased deeply on his face. Hoping just as much as he was, that she would be alright.  
Still no change.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Awakenings**

_Twelve days later_

Beep. Beep. Beep.  
Jean's heart monitor beeped rhythmically, but Logan barely noticed it anymore.  
He'd spent more hours than he could count in the cold, sterile med-lab the last few weeks.  
He was grateful that he didn't have to spend his time in the room ignoring Scott.  
But he also dreaded the implications of Scott's absence.  
Today was the fifth day in a row Emma had come to see him. She was nothing if not persistent. And she had the audacity to, literally, try to lure him away from his wife's sickbed.  
With each passing day, Logan noticed the man's resolve waning. He found it hard to fault the guy, though. Emma was quite a force to be reckoned with.  
But, today, he'd actually left with her. Likely to, again, ask her to leave… perhaps to try and escort her out. But that had been three hours ago.  
The room didn't need windows for him to imagine what the two might be doing. Out in the courtyard… walking… laughing… kissing. Or worse, back in Scott's room…  
It was all the same. Just the two of them being together cried out, "look, over here!" Making it abundantly clear that neither one of them had any regard for anyone else's feelings.  
He rose, determined to find them, and tell Scott… he wasn't sure, what, exactly, but he felt the sudden need to tell them both just how improper their actions were.  
He opened the door, not noticing at first that the rhythmic beeps had suddenly become faster.

Jean sat up, incredibly disoriented, and confused. Her vision rather blurred.  
She heard a gasp at her sudden movement, and the door closed softly.  
"Scott?" she asked. She was in the med-lab. She couldn't remember why.  
"Mornin' Red," she heard the familiar voice. But only one man called her "Red," and it was not Scott.  
"…Logan? What are you… well, you came back," she said, groggily. She could barely make him out, now, but everything looked… fuzzy.  
The last thing she remembered, she was in the danger room…  
"Of course I did, darlin'. Especially once I heard you were hurt."  
"Where's Scott?" she asked.She could see him a little more clearly now. Enough to see him look away from her when she asked.  
She'd remembered the danger room, and the fight with Scott beforehand…  
"He's… not here?" she prodded.  
Logan shook his head, still not looking directly at her.  
Realization quickly set in. She suddenly remembered everything that had happened.  
"He's… with _her_. Isn't he," she said, not really a question.  
"I'm sorry, Jeanie." She could see him clearly now, and his expression was pained, sympathy deep in his eyes.  
They sat there in silence a few minutes. Neither one moving.  
Jean quickly unplugged all the wires that were attached to her, still not moving. She sat there. Still, and disturbingly calm.  
She stood, only faltering slightly. He moved to catch her, but she put a hand on his chest to stop him.  
"I'm fine," she said. "Get me out of here."  
"What?"  
"Get me out of here. I don't care where we go. But I need to get out of here."  
"Are you sure? You sure you don't want to—"  
"Yes. Just get me out of here."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Ten**

_Ten days later_

Ten days now he'd woken up next to her.  
He couldn't count how long he'd hoped for the day she'd come to him, but he could easily count how many days since she had.  
Ten days. Ten different hotel rooms. Ten different cities, if only half of them could really be called that.  
"Mornin' Jeanie," Logan said.  
"Morning," she replied, smiling at him.  
"How long we gonna keep runnin?" he asked.  
Her smile faded. She stared at him with an unreadable look for what seemed like hours.  
"I don't know," she answered truthfully.

Ten days now she'd woken up next to him.  
She couldn't count how long she'd been refusing his advances, but she could easily count how many days since she'd given in to temptation.  
Ten days. Ten different hotel rooms. Ten different cities, if none of them actually let her forget what she was running from.  
"I don't know," Jean answered truthfully. "Are you complaining?" she smirked.  
"Nope." Logan chuckled. "I'm just worried about you, Red. We've been running for—"  
"Ten days. I know."  
"We've gotta go back eventually."  
"I know. Let's just enjoy this a little longer, shall we?" she said, kissing him playfully.

Ten days now he'd woken up next to her. Wracked with guilt.  
He couldn't count how long she'd been trying to seduce him, but he could easily count how many days since she had.  
Ten days. Ten different days, if they all seemed the same. Ten days since she'd left, and it was all his fault.  
"Morning, Scott," Emma said, smiling at him.  
"Morning," he said, mirthlessly.  
"When are you going to stop beating yourself up about this?" she asked.  
He frowned, staring at the floor for what seemed like hours.  
"She would have left eventually," she said.

Ten days now she'd woken up next to him. Happier than she'd ever been.  
She couldn't count how long she'd been trying to seduce him, but she could easily count how many days it had been since she had.  
Ten days. Ten days she'd had him to herself. Ten glorious days, if only he could be as happy as she was.  
"She would have left eventually," Emma said, "you just didn't want to see it."  
"What do you mean?" Scott asked, innocently.  
"You must have seen the way she looked at him… it's the same way I look at you."  
"Oh yeah?" he said, almost smiling. "And how's that?"  
"A look that says 'you're mine,'" she said, pulling him in for a kiss.

Ten nights now since she'd gotten a good night's sleep.  
She couldn't count how many times she'd thought she wanted to run away with him, but she could easily count the days since he'd run away with _her_.  
Ten days. Ten days since he'd left without saying goodbye, if only he knew how much that hurt her.  
"Still no word from Logan?" Rogue asked the Professor for the tenth day in a row.  
"No, I'm afraid not," he replied.  
"Why aren't you looking for them?" she asked, frustrated.  
"Because they don't want to be found, and I don't blame them," he said.  
"So everyone gets what they want…" she sighed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Our Own World**

_Two weeks later_

The first light of morning was just peeking through the window. Even in an unfamiliar motel room, he felt at ease... strangely at home. The redhead laying next to him, sleeping peacefully, provided the primary reason for his contentment. The brisk Canadian air seeping in under the door was the other. It was so slight, it would have gone completely unnoticed to anyone lacking his heightened senses. He would have reveled in it, had he not been so enveloped by her presence, her scent, her very being.

It was no surprise that their seemingly aimless wanderings had eventually led them up north, across the border. Logan had always considered Canada to be like another home to him. Now, home was wherever she was. Wherever they were. It just seemed all too appropriate that they'd ended up here. Secluded in some little motel, out in the wilderness... they were strangers to anyone they might meet, and they were far away from life's problems. But that didn't mean they were entirely forgotten.

He watched her sleep for a few moments, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, and then rolled onto his side, and threw his arm gently around her. Jean stirred slightly, without fully waking, only to nestle closer into his embrace. Her scent was overpowering... intoxicating. He stroked her hair gently. It smelled strongly of the floral-scented shampoo from the night before. He couldn't help but remember the events that had led up to that shower... how much he had enjoyed even just running his fingers through her wet, soapy hair... and, of course the events that took place afterwards. He smiled to himself, thankful she wasn't awake to read his thoughts, and then pretend to be embarassed.

His hand slowly slid its way from her hair, down to her shoulder, all the way down her arm, to the tip of her fingers. Gentle as he was, this was finally enough to wake her, and she grasped his hand in hers as she stretched her legs, lazily.

"Morning," she said, as she turned her head just enough to smile at him.  
"Mornin' Red," he said, matching her grin tooth for tooth.  
"Sleep well?" she asked.  
"Yep," he said, simply.  
"Good. Me too."

A few moments passed, and they just enjoyed being in each other's company, somewhere between asleep and awake.  
She rolled on her other side, and her green eyes looked deep into his, her smile never fading.  
After another moment or so, he suddenly looked away, and his smile started slipping. She knew what was coming without any need to read his thoughts.

"Y'know, we can't keep--" he started.  
She put a finger to his lips.  
"Shh. I know," she said, in a soothing tone.  
It was the same conversation he insisted on having every few days since they'd left, with growing frequency as time passed by.  
He frowned slightly, and grabbed her wrist gently to pull her hand away.  
"Darlin', you know I'd like nothing more than to stay in our own little world... but we can't keep running like this," he said.  
"I know," she said. "We have to go back eventually. But not yet. Just a little while longer."  
It was the same answer she gave him every time they had this conversation, and he could never bear to press the issue.  
She kissed him playfully on the forehead, and he wrapped his arms around her.  
"Just a little longer..." he sighed into her hair.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in the Marvel Universe, nor any of the characters contained herein. Written neither for profit nor gain.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Facing the Truth**

_Three days later_

Jean didn't have to see the way Logan was looking at her from across the room to know that she meant everything to him. But she wondered if he would ever be her everything? Probably not. At least not the way Scott had. Well, before he'd run off with—no. She had to stop thinking about it. About _her_ and how she'd stolen him.  
She turned away from the window with a sigh, realizing she was just using it as an excuse to stare blankly into space. Besides, it was dark, and cloudy enough that only Logan could make out more than just a few trees.

Logan. She looked at him and smiled.  
He worshipped her. Was that the problem? He made it too easy? He didn't provide enough of a challenge? No. Logan was anything but meek. He just… wasn't Scott.  
She knew it wasn't fair to compare them… especially since she did love Logan. It was just… different.

"Everything alright, Jeanie? You're awful quiet."  
"Yeah, I was just thinking."  
"What about?" "Hmm. You," she said with a smirk, as she sat down on the bed next to him.  
It wasn't exactly a lie.  
"Oh yeah?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "And just what were you thinking?"  
She leaned over and kissed him in response, his ever-present scruff slightly scratching against her face.  
He smiled at her, and brushed a strand of her hair gently out of her face as she pulled away slightly.  
"Hey, you know, a guy could really get used to this," he said.  
"So could I, Logan. So could I."  
She threw her arms around him and kissed him again. All thoughts of Scott temporarily vanished.

After what seemed like hours, once peace and quiet had returned, her thoughts wandered back to Scott.  
"Maybe it is about time we headed back. I'm sure they need us," she said.  
Logan, sound asleep, snored in response.  
She lay back in bed, and sighed. For the first time in weeks, she removed the block from her link with Scott. She reached out, oh so gently, and thought only one word: _home_.  
She wasn't sure if it was meant as a warning, or why she was giving him any advance notice at all, but she did so without hesitation. She quickly restored the block, and rolled over, wrapping her arms around Logan. She quickly dozed off.

Hundreds of miles away, Scott woke with a start.  
"Jean!" he cried out, before he could stop himself.  
Emma gave him a look, somewhere between confusion and anger.  
"They're coming back," was all the explanation he provided.


End file.
